Blackness
by William Logan
Summary: Fleeing from a strange falling darkness that seems to be taking over Hogwarts, Ginny Weasley finds herself stranded, alone, in a dark room, tormented by a voice that seems to know every dark secret of her past.


Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K Rowling and the companies which publish said books.  
  
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"Blackness"  
  
By William Logan  
  
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Ginny Weasley stumbled forward down the corridor, glancing over her shoulder, seeing the darkness behind her threatening to envelope her. The fourteen year old girl looked panic-stricken, her soft blue eyes darting all about, hands groping to find an unlocked door before she was swallowed. Her red hair fell about her face in a haphazard fashion, effectively blocking her view. One of her well-shined black dress shoes slipped off as she picked up her pace, stumbling again, almost falling on her freckled face. She let out a soft cry of horror as she turned and saw the darkness drawing closer. Behind her, she heard a door open, felt a hand grab her arm and quickly draw her inside, the solid wood door slamming shut just as she cleared it. She turned around, tears brimming her eyes to thank her savior, but saw no one. This was a room of Hogwarts she had never encountered before. There were no torches lining the walls, only a small fireplace casting a sickly yellow light, and a small wax candle sitting upon an oak table. There were no windows to be seen.  
  
"Welcome," said a male voice. Ginny blinked slowly, a shiver running down her spine.  
  
"Wh-who are you?" She demanded weakly, reaching inside of her robes for her wand. It was gone. She must have dropped it when she had been running from that strange darkness that had enveloped the halls of the school.  
  
"A friend," the voice purred. She tried to place its owner in the room, but it seemed to be coming from all around her.  
  
"I'm sorry if your voice doesn't sound particularly familiar to me," she spoke to the dark room. She had begun to nervously wring her hands.  
  
"Come closer to the table, Ginny." For no apparent reason at all, she obeyed, drawing slowly closer and resting a hand on the table. The voice was comforting to her, but somehow drew out terrors hidden deep inside of her. She noticed that there was a chair sitting next to the table, and pondered on it for a few moments. "Sit." The voice suggested, and she did. The candlelight danced on her face, warming it ever so slightly. She was shivering uncontrollably now, wanting to cry.  
  
"Who are you?" She asked again. From behind, she felt a warm hand lightly brush her neck, sending a thousand sensations trickling down her back.  
  
"Someone who cares for you very deeply, Virginia... someone who knows you very intimately indeed," she could feel his breath on her shoulder, but when she turned to look, there was no one there. Still, though, she could not move from the spot in which she sat. There was an enchantment in this place, a different sort than that over most of Hogwarts. It was amazing how it made her feel both perfectly at ease, yet completely frightened. The light from the fireplace suddenly gave out, now the candle provided the only light, and all that it showed to Ginny was the table it sat upon, and her own hands fidgeting on her lap.  
  
"What was that darkness that was following me?" She murmured softly, "Are my friends all right?"  
  
"It was an enchantment I put on the castle to bring you to me, my dear," she heard amusement in his voice, "your friends are perfectly safe, as are you." She felt a hand now touching her cheek gently, "I couldn't let harm come to such a beautiful creature." She recoiled, horrified at having her personal space invaded as such. "Do you not long to be touched by a loving hand? Or am I misreading all that I've seen in you?" She felt her stomach lurch. How could this boy, or man, whatever he may be, know her innermost longings.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"That black-haired boy, Potter... you know all he ever does is hurt you. He doesn't even know you're alive," the voice hissed in her ear again. She tried to move this time, but couldn't at all. She was bound to the chair by invisible forces. She let out a cry. "I've loved you, Ginny, ever since I laid eyes on you... and I'm not going to let you get away from me."  
  
"Who are you?!" She screamed. Tears began to stream down her pale, freckled cheeks.  
  
"Haven't you figured it out already? We both know each other quite well, my darling, beautiful Ginny." She saw movement to her left, a dark robe swirling about, "I've seen your innermost thoughts, and you have helped me achieve my ambitions... it was that accursed Potter who foiled both of us! Ruined it all!" Ginny's body seemed to turn to lead as the face she feared most appeared over the candle, righteous fury blazing in his eyes, "I'm Tom Riddle, you silly girl. And you know... you know that in your heart, I was the only one you ever trusted." Ginny began to sob now.  
  
"It's not true," she murmured, "you're a monster! A murderer!"  
  
"And you were helping me achieve my ends," Riddle hissed, his face a horrible grin, "don't deny that. You know you can't." She just let out a whimper, closing her eyes, "You helped remake me."  
  
"Get away from me!" She screamed from behind closed eyes, and when she reopened them, she found herself staring at the ceiling above her bed. Her body was covered in a cold sweat, her sheets a complete tangle around her quaking body. She sat up, looking around, the other girls in her room were still asleep. She hadn't cried aloud. No explanations would be needed. She pulled her knees to her chest and began to sob softly to herself. Tom Riddle, the thief, the liar, the murderer, the mind-rapist, the invader of Ginny's dream, had been entirely right. The thought circled in her mind all through the sleepless night, never once stopping its constant assault.  
  
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Fin  
  
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End file.
